


The Spoons Theory of Everything

by NervousAsexual



Series: McUra [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, Introverts, Nonbinary Character, Other, Tea Parties, it really has everything, mcura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uhura and McCoy handle parties very, very differently. Also, Uhura <3 math puzzles and also <3 McCoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spoons Theory of Everything

Okay, but Uhura fecking loves math puzzles.

When she really thinks about it, all puzzles are math. In fact, almost every thing is math, from the Bajoran word scramble in the day's paper to the complex derivative formulae that Sulu uses to dock the Enterprise. This fact makes her almost giddy. So when, at the crew Solstice party, Kirk has become tipsy and issues an old-fashioned Sudoku challenge between himself, Spock, and Uhura she can't help but accept.

The hours grow wee and Spock and Uhura stay neck and neck, the differences in their completion times virtually statistical noise.

"Best ninety out of one hundred and twelve," jokes Kirk. There are eleven nines on his sudoku grid.

In the distance some one is playing a slap-happy card game and Chapel is laughing her loud loud laugh over the roar of the partiers and Uhura feels a happy little trill that allows Spock to gain a minimal lead and she is still smiling when McCoy puts their hand on her shoulder.

"I'm leaving," they say. "Going to bed."

"Hm?"

Spock obligingly glances up, but more than likely he is like Uhura, mind still subconsciously fiddling with the numbers.

"I'm done for the night."

"Do you want me to come?"

"No. You stay and..." McCoy eyeballs the Sudoku puzzles. "Continue your Vulcan sorcery."

"A human invention, actually," remarks Spock.

Uhura puts her hand on theirs. "Are you being sarcastic? It's hard to tell sometimes."

McCoy places a kiss right on top of her head.

"It's okay," they say, cheeks flushing adorably red. "I have to go."

"Good night," Uhura says, though she cannot see how they will even find their way through what seems like solid acres of the enlisted.

"Good night," she says again, but McCoy's eyes are already glazed over and they step into the crowd.

~~~~~~~~

At some point even Uhura is partied right out. Spock wins, of course, runs out not long after McCoy and retreats to his own quarters.

Uhura encounters Ensign Haines in the lavatory. Their world is not one that throws them together often. They start off talking about work and before they know it the crowds have dispersed and they are discussing whales and canines and such things.

Uhura starts to excuse herself, but as she does so they run into Carolyn Palmas and Kirk and of course they have to rescue her from what appears to be the longest, dullest speech James T. Kirk has ever given. She can't even decipher its topic.

"Go to bed, Kirk," she tells him, and the other two nod in agreement. They never leave a woman, girl, or non-binarily aligned individual behind.

"I felt bad just leaving him there," says Palmas.

"You gotta do you." Haines gives her an awkward shoulder bump that reminds Uhura of McCoy's awkward head kiss (and her face feels warm and she can't help grinning). "No offense," Haines says to Uhura, "but trying to appease potential mates at the cost of your own sanity is..."

Uhura laughs. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Palmas turns a brighter, lighter pink. "That wasn't...! No, actually, never mind. And Kirk is not exactly my type."

Haines's nose scrunches up as she giggles. "He is your type to the letter! You fall all over yourself for those golden boys!"

"Forget this. I gotta get home and feed my..." As she goes to form the next word they all three look at each other and burst out laughing.

"I gotta get home," Palmas insists, as red as Uhura's dress uniform and holding her sides. "You two are insufferable," she adds as she hobbles toward a connecting hall. She disappears around the corner, but before they can compose themselves she leans back into view and she points at Uhura and points at Haines and says, "And never change. Neither one of you."

Uhura laughs and laughs and even though she's coming down now excited-happy-togetherness feels she creeps back into bed feeling around for McCoy. But beneath the purple patterned duvet there is nothing.

Her skin pricks up all over and she turns up the lights. Bed is untouched. McCoy's uniform blazer lays on the chair, but they are no where to be seen.

"McCoy?" She checks the bath, peeks behind the curtain. "Bones?" She sees nothing. "Sweets?"

Finally she opens the closet and there they are, curled at the bottom in a pile of bedsheets and throw blankets. "Bones? Are you okay, sweets?"

"Turn down lights," they whisper hoarsely, and she does.

"Don't you feel good?"

"Just leave me alone."

"...Are you mad?"

"Out of spoons to give."

Now it all makes sense. The glazed eyes, the dizzy look, hiding away where they couldn't be found.

"You stay put," she tells them (as if there's anywhere they want to go). And she off she runs to Palmas' room.

~~~~~~~

When she returns they haven't moved much, just enough to bury their face in the laundry. She crouches down and puts her fetch-quest near their cheek where it begins to trill like a kitten purring.

McCoy moves their head a little even though they don't look up. "Is that a tribble."

Uhura pets the little blond tribble and it is soft and squeezeable and makes her nostalgic for the big tribbles, the ones that got so fat and huggable.

"Carolyn calls it Kirk," she says.

Even though McCoy doesn't say anything they smile into the blankets. Uhura pulls her own blankets from the bed and sleeps just on the other side of the closet door, listening to the hum of the galaxy's first therapy tribble.


End file.
